I think, metaphorically, everyone has those things. Filtered out and repressed, but invisibly present. It does nothing but hurt you, and yet we'll go so far as to draw it out on purpose.
Pure venom. Poison. Bitter and vile.
I hate people that are happy. Did you know that? I can't say 'I'm happy for you' because that would be lying. I'm not happy for you. I never will be. Needless to say, I hate celebratory events. Birthdays, weddings, graduations and anniversaries. Things like that.
I think I simply lack the ability to be happy for another person. As far as I can remember, I never have been.
I love helping people. Even going out of my way to do something. It feels good. It's fulfilling.
But even when someone else works hard and reaches a goal, or comes into good fortune, I can't bring myself to feel anything positive towards you.
In fact, it's the opposite. You would never know. But it's there.
I still would say that I'm not depressed anymore. But I'm still at that period of life where not much is happening.
It will still be a long time before anything happens. With work, in romance, travelling, etc. Nothing is happening. Nothing will. For a long time.
Pretty soon it'll be Valentine's again. It feels like it just happened though. I plan on sleeping through the day just like I did last year. Nothing is wrong. I'm healthy, mentally and physically, for the most part. I'm keeping warm and well fed, and there is very little stress in my life.
It's calm and lovely.
I don't need reminders of what COULD be happening, or what I could have. When I'm reminded, my natural response is '&%# you.' I waited to be above 18, only to find out that nothing will still happen for a long time.
I am NOT a patient person.
I daydream by choice, you know. When I'm consciously present, I'm an asswipe.
I need distractions. Not reminders.